Fast Times at Duane Street High
by Backstage
Summary: Chapter 7 is up! What if the newsies weren't the newsies at all? What if they were ordinary high school kids in the twenty-first century? Please R 'n' R!
1. New Kid in Town

Gather 'round the story mat, boys 'n' girls!!  
  
Hypothetical question: Don't you ever find yourself watching "Newsies" and you go: "Hmm... I wonder how these characters would adapt to OUR time?" Ah, you're not alone.  
  
I'm so sick of hearing the run-of-the-mill "back in time" stories. This isn't even a "FORWARD in time" story. Imagine that our favorite boys were never newsies... yeah, yeah, I know. What if they were just like the guys you see at your high school every day? The jocks, the class clowns, the rebels, the artsy kids... what if the NEWSIES were these guys?  
  
And that, my friends, is what "Fast Times at Duane Street High" is all about.  
  
Time to forget our boys as the strikers that we've come to know and love. Let's take 'em to the hardest environment to survive in: American high school. Ha ha ha...  
  
*DISCLAIMER: Yep, nothin's changed. Disney still owns "Newsies." But in this story, that's ALL they own!! *evil grin* Other than that, I own my character, Stagey, and the others to come will own themselves. Yay! So indeed.*  
  
AND BY THE WAY... I'm tryin' to please my readers to the best of my ability. But eventually I'm gonna make SOMEONE mad by putting their favorite newsie in a clique that they don't agree with. Look, you guys... this story is meant to be enjoyed by all of you, but I wrote this based on MY feelings. And, yeah... it's really stupid to keep the guys' nicknames since it's present-day now... but it works! Please don't hurt me... *cowers in her genie bottle*  
  
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And now without further ado... the first of what I hope will be MANY chapters of:  
  
~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~  
  
Chapter ONE: New Kid in Town  
  
The nanosecond Danielle "Stagey" Williams set foot in Duane Street High School, it was like the world stopped. Sure, she'd expected life to suck majorly when she was forced to move, but not this much. It was as though these kids had never seen a new face before.  
  
Truth be told, they hadn't. Duane Street High was the only secondary school in the sleepy little town of Queens, New York. No, not THAT Queens. NEVER confuse Queens, New York with Queens, New York CITY. The two were as different as night and day and just as far apart. Queens was a tiny town up in the northwest corner of New York state. The kids at Duane Street High had grown up together. They'd been educated with each other from preschool on up-- from playing in the sandbox to going to junior prom.  
  
So Stagey's was a noticeably different face, to say the least. Stagey tried to avoid the stares from the astounded kids in the hallway as she furiously clutched her schedule, in search of her first period class.  
  
********************************  
  
"Hey, look-- there's the auditions sheet."  
  
"Why are you even looking at that, Jack? Everyone knows the parts in 'Romeo and Juliet.' We read it in freshman English, remember?"  
  
"Yeah... jus' checkin', that's all." Jack smiled down at his girlfriend, Sarah Jacobs, turning his attention to the auditions notice hanging just outside the auditorium. "Wonder what part I'm gonna get..."  
  
Sarah squinted at him. "What makes you think that you'll get a part?"  
  
"Hey, c'mon!" Jack protested, trying not to sound too full of himself. "I've been in Miss Larkson's plays ever since I was a little kid. She'll let me in." He paused. "Don't know who's gonna be the female lead though," he mused. "Tabitha graduated last year."  
  
"Hey, don't look at me," she said with a small smile as the warning bell rang. "You know I"m not into that sort of thing. C'mon; we're gonna be late for Bio."  
  
********************************  
  
Stagey arrived in front of room 713 right before the warning bell rang. She double and triple checked her schedule to make sure she was in the right place. Before she entered the room, she ran smack into a short-looking boy. He steadied the cabbie hat on his dark head of hair after the collision.  
  
"Hey, where's the fire, kiddo?" he chirped in an accent.  
  
"Sorry," she said, clutching her binder. "Guess I need to pay attention to where I'm going."  
  
He shrugged. "No big deal. Say, you're new, ain't ya?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"You in my class?"  
  
Stagey fished out her schedule and read over it. "English Lit with... Denton?"  
  
"Yeah, Mr. Denton... he's pretty okay for a teacher," he said with a smirk. "How ya doin'? I'm Anthony Higgins, but I only answer to Racetrack." He grinned.  
  
"Racetrack..." she mulled over. "That's, er-- interesting. Uh, I'm Danielle... Danielle Williams. But my friends back home in D.C. called me Stagey." She smiled.  
  
"An' I thought I had a weird nickname!" Racetrack remarked as they walked in the classroom, taking two seats one in front of the other. The rest of the students filed in gradually.  
  
"'Morning, guys..." Mr. Denton rushed in, carrying his briefcase. "Sorry I'm late. The copier wasn't working, so your test on Emerson isn't going to be until tomorrow."  
  
The class cheered.  
  
"But first," he said, "we have a new student here with us this morning from Washington, D.C." Mr. Denton checked the roll. "Danielle Williams? That right?"  
  
Stagey nodded. "Yeah," she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she felt twenty pairs of eyes stare at her.  
  
"All right. Good." He opened a notebook. "Why don't you just listen in on the discussion today? I won't grade you on anything your first day."  
  
She nodded again.  
  
Mr. Denton started pacing around the room, a habit he was prone to doing during the lengthy class discussions. "Okay, now... let's talk about your novel that's due today..."  
  
A communal moan filled the air.  
  
"Mr. Conlon!" Mr. Denton acknowledged the boy sitting in the row next to Stagey.  
  
This kid, Conlon, opened and closed his eyes slowly, lazily. His selection of wardrobe was in dull, dark colors, complete with a studded collar around his neck. His hair was darkish and tousled with gel. The only area of color was a pair of red suspenders and his electic blue eyes. He smirked at Mr. Denton.  
  
"Mr. Denton..." he said with the same amount of authority.  
  
"Tell us about 'Wuthering Heights,'" he asked.  
  
Racetrack turned around to face Stagey. "That's Spot Conlon... badass of Duane Street High," he reported with a snicker.  
  
Stagey stifled a laugh.  
  
"'Wuthering Heights'..." Spot murmured to himself. "Oh, right! That was the one with that guy Heathcliff that kep' feelin' sorry for himself. What a loser. And Catherine. Sheez, she was hot."  
  
Mr. Denton faked a heart attack. "What am I hearing? Bad Boy Conlon actually READ the book?"  
  
The class sort of laughed.  
  
"Yeah, actually," said Spot, raising his eyebrows. "Kinda liked all that dark romance crap."  
  
********************************  
  
Mid-"Wuthering Heights" discussion, the bell jingled in the hallway.  
  
"Have a good day, guys!" Mr. Denton dismissed the class.  
  
Racetrack shifted his bag to the other shoulder. "So where ya headed next, Stagey?"  
  
Stagey examined her schedule. "Theatre Arts..."  
  
He chuckled. "Well, that's where we part, kiddo! I ain't into all that drama crap." He pointed down the hallway. "But the class is right down those stairs."  
  
"'Kay. Thanks, Racetrack."  
  
"No sweat. See ya 'round, Stagey."  
  
"'Bye." She half-waved to her new friend and trod down the stairwell and, surely enough, to the drama classroom.  
  
Things were much different in the drama room than in her English Lit room. First of all, it looked like total anarchy-- akin to an open mike night at the coffee house. There were kids prancing all over the makeshift stage in the lecture hall-esque room. Where was the teacher?  
  
Stagey found her-- a striking, friendly-looking redheaded woman doodling on her notepad. She cleared her throat, offering up her schedule.  
  
"Oh, hello hon," she said with a melodious voice, checking Stagey's schedule. "Danielle? Okay, well, make yourself comfy anywhere you like. I'm Ms. Larkson, ringleader of this three-ring circus." She grinned. "Go on; take a seat."  
  
"Thanks," Stagey said with a smile, navigating around the chairs, tossing her stuff down in an empty seat in the middle, at the end of a row. She took in the goings-on among the kids quietly. It was something she never did.  
  
Ordinarily, she would have been right down there with them. Back in D.C., Stagey was queen of the drama department of her school. She knew everyone there. And then her dad had to get that job offer in Queens... the middle of nowhere. Still, Stagey watched the drama kids longingly, wanting to be a part of it.  
  
"Hey... 'scuse me."  
  
Someone appeared behind Stagey, taking a bag from under her chair, preparing to toss it into the one next to her.  
  
"Oh," she said absent-mindedly, "Sorry... I didn't know this was your seat." She tucked a lock of her haphazardly wavy hair behind her ear, getting a good look at the person who she stole a seat from.  
  
"Nah; it's okay. I can always use this one. It's just as good." The person-- a boy, grinned at her through the strands of ear-length light brown hair that fell in his eyes. He tossed his bag under the desk next to her, tugging at his fitted faded jeans and reajusting the sleeves on his baggy, laced-up black shirt. He was the stereotypical drama kid-- one of her group.  
  
"You're new, huh?" he asked her, leaning back leisurely in his chair.  
  
She nodded, forcing a grin. "Unfortunately. Gotta make new friends and everything, all over again."  
  
"Here; I'll ease the transition." He shook her hand. "Name's Jack Kelly, wannabe actor and speed-reader extraordinaire." He grinned at her. "Who're you?"  
  
"Danielle," she answered, catching his contagious smile. "Danielle Williams... but if you want, you can call me Stagey."  
  
"Stagey, huh?" he repeated back to her. "'Kay."  
  
"Okay, cats and kittens!" Miss Larkson's voice rang out in the room. "Believe it or not, the bell just rang! Take your seats, please... Blink! Get your tuchis in a chair, buddy!"  
  
Blink-- apparently-- exhibited a broad grin as he plopped down in the chair in front of Stagey. Clearly, his namesake came from the eyepatch he wore over one eye... typical of your drama kids to do something weird like that. Stagey grinned, feeling at home already with such different people.  
  
There was a rustling noise as everyone found a seat.  
  
"All righty..." she continued, waving a pink flier at the front of the room. "First of all, this is a reminder for auditions for 'Romeo and Juliet' after school today! Please guys, make an effort to come out. You don't need any kind of monologue... I just need you to read from the script a few times. Sound like a plan?"  
  
Jack leaned over to Stagey. "Comin' to auditions today?" he whispered. "We need a new leadin' lady. Our old one graduated las' year, so you got a real good chance."  
  
Stagey eyed the pink flier amusingly. Maybe she would...  
  
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Okay, kids!! Now comes the fun part: telling me what you thought of it!! *smile* So please, post a review!! If you guys like it enough, I just might write some more... though I'd be inclined to write more even if no one liked it, ha ha!!! Well, thankies much in advance for the reviews, an' please stay tuned for chapter TWO... comin' soon!! 


	2. The Audition

Ah, you like me! You really, really like me! Or the story, anyway. Well, I'd like to PRETEND it's me that you all love. ANYWAY... to cure the insomnia that I'm sure a bunch of you are having over the incompleteness of this fic, I present to you: CHAPTER TWO. Enjoy! And don't forget to review! Thankies!  
  
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~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~  
  
Chapter TWO: The Audition  
  
"Mush! Hey, Mush! Think fast, buddy!"  
  
A bottle of chocolate milk went sailing over the heads of unsuspecting students in the hall. Jacob "Mush" Myers caught it with a quick reflex. It was pretty expected-- after all, he WAS the quarterback of Duane Street's varsity football team. And it was game day, evident by the red-and-white jerseys that adorned the backs of the select few of the male social uppercrust.  
  
Mush gulped down the bottle leisurely. "Thanks, man," he said, thanking his pal and fellow teammate Mike Masterson, whom everyone called Skittery since elementary school.  
  
"Jesus, Mush! Slow down!" Skittery cautioned him. "You'll be spewin' that chocolate milk all over the field tonight if you don't watch it. Remember, we're playin' Irving High tonight."  
  
He scoffed as he finished the bottle of milk. "I ain't worried about it," he replied. "We always kick their asses ev'ry time. Their defense sucks."  
  
It was the end of the day, and all of the students were undertaking their daily exodus out of the school. Weekend plans were bouncing off of every wall-- for it was Friday. Two days of freedom. Two days of no school.  
  
"Delancey!" Mush barked to another jersey nearby.  
  
The jersey's owner turned, nodding to Mush and Skittery. "Hey guys."  
  
Skittery returned the nod. "Whaddya say, Oscar?"   
  
{A/N: Yes, I know!! Oscar Delancey is friends with Skitts an' Mush! But *sigh* all in the best interest of plot advancement... Don't hurt me!!}  
  
"I'm all right." Oscar shrugged. "Gettin' my ass home before I have to come back here."  
  
As the three boys left the school, they bypassed a pink flier advertising the auditions for "Romeo and Juliet." Oscar grinned, ripping it off the wall.  
  
"What was that?" Mush questioned, staring at the ball of pink paper on the floor.  
  
"Some kinda try-outs for the school play," Oscar scoffed. "Damn those drama freaks..."  
  
Skittery snorted out an agreeing laugh. "Yeah; whatta bunch of losers."  
  
Stagey found the drama room just like she had a few hours earlier. It was even MORE flooded with anxious kids than earlier that day. Everyone was running lines from the play to prepare for the auditions.  
  
"Hey, looky! It's the new kid!" Blink called to Stagey above the noise.  
  
Stagey grinned. She was glad to see someone recognize her. "Hi!" she called, crossing the room to join him.  
  
"We're runnin' lines," he informed her. "C'mon; have a seat."  
  
She pulled up a chair, tossing down her homework-laden bookbag. Only one day at school and she had way too much homework.  
  
"Geez, Stagey." Jack was seated across from Blink, studying the lines in a copy of the script. "They sure weighed ya down with bookwork, huh?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she growled. "So, what scene are we readin' here?"  
  
Blink tossed her a copy of the script. "Act Two, Scene One," he reported.  
  
The three of them perused through the script for about fifteen minutes before Ms. Larkson called above the noise:  
  
"Okay, guys! Please have a seat someplace so we can start the auditions!"  
  
The kids all flowed into seats gradually as the auditions began.  
  
Stagey was initially a little disappointed for the beginning of the auditions. She wasn't called up once to read-- not for Juliet, not for the Nurse... not even for Lady Montague. She was almost discouraged enough to leave and wait until the next play to audition. Jack was up there a lot, however. So was Blink.   
  
Jack was on the platform again, reading for Romeo for about the fourteenth time. Everyone pretty much knew that the part was his. He went through a cycle of potential Juliets, selected from the roster by Ms. Larkson.  
  
"All right. Thanks very much, Rachel and Jack..." Ms. Larkson scanned through the sheet of paper on her clipboard. "Rachel... you can have a seat. Jack, stay up there for me, please... okay... Danielle!"  
  
Stagey's head whipped up, clutching her script anxiously. "Yes?"  
  
"Danielle, please go on up there and read with Jack... Act One, Scene Five, page twelve... starting at the middle right there with Romeo's line."  
  
Stagey's eyes wandered to the place Ms. Larkson indicated. She was supposed to read for Juliet. Stagey blinked in surprise. She hadn't seen that one coming.  
  
Jack seemed totally okay with it as he found the starting place. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this." Completely in character, but nonetheless taking Stagey by surprise, Jack grasped her hand and brought her further center stage. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."  
  
She cleared her throat, reading her line with as much Juliet reproach as she could show forth: "Good pilgrim, you do wrong, your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."  
  
He picked up his line immediately, giving a Romeo-ish grin. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"  
  
"Ay, pilgrim," Stagey read, "lips that they must use in prayer."  
  
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair," Jack said in reply. If she hadn't seen the way he acted with the rest of the prospective Juliets, Stagey could have sworn he was trying to hit on her.  
  
She read Juliet's next line: "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."  
  
Jack edged closer to her. "Then move not while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd."  
  
Stagey swallowed nervously as she saw the following stage direction: "[Kisses her.]" Before she could gather her bearings, Jack was slowly moving in for Romeo's kiss. He stopped abruptly when he was only about three inches from her mouth.  
  
"Very well done!" Ms. Larkson chirped. "Thank you very much. You both may have a seat."  
  
Jack closed his script, falling back out of character. "Good job, Stagey," he said as they took their seats.  
  
"Uh, thanks. You too. Good job." If Stagey had a mirror, she'd know that her face was a faint shade of red. She had no idea why. After all, she acted before. She'd even kissed a guy before... well, only on stage. So why was she so anxious? It must have been because she was new. That was all.  
  
Stagey's moment of excitement for getting to read for Juliet fell again when she wasn't called up again to read. Well, there went any hope of landing a part.  
  
"That's all, folks!" Ms. Larkson called after about an hour. "Keep an eye out for the cast list on Monday afternoon after school! Thank you all for coming!"  
  
Everyone murmured their way out of the room, sounding either confident or downtrodden from their experience at the audition.  
  
"That was great!" Jack crowed as he and Blink left the building.  
  
"Sure was, Romeo!" Blink said with a grin. "Dude, you SO have that part bagged."  
  
He tried to show a little modesty. "Ah, who knows? Miss Larkson can get weird like that with her casting." He turned around to see Stagey straggling behind. "Hey, Stagey... what's eatin' ya? You did great."  
  
"Yeah, sure," she said dryly. "I did great... in the one whole time I got called up to read." She frowned, kicking a piece of trash across the parking lot. "I don't get it... I never did that bad at an audition before."  
  
"Who says you did bad?" he questioned, shifting his backpack around. "I thought you did a great job."  
  
"Whoo..." Blink tittered jokingly. "Smooth move, Romeo!" He paused. "Well, listen, I'm gonna head home. See ya at the game, Jack?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," he answered, waving him off. "Later, Blink." Once Blink was out of sight, Jack turned to Stagey. "Aw, cheer up, Stagey... worryin' about it is only gonna ruin your weekend." He grinned at her encouragingly.  
  
Stagey allowed a smile to crack across her face. "Yeah. Guess I shouldn't be such a mental case about it."  
  
"No; you shouldn't. It's all good... it's jus' a play, after all."  
  
"Yeah..." Stagey paused. "Hey, uh, Jack? Wanna go grab somethin' to eat down the street?"  
  
He winced. "Love to, but I can't. I gotta take my girlfriend home..." he replied.  
  
Her heart sank for some unknown reason. "Oh... well, okay then."  
  
Sarah sat cross-legged on the hood of Jack's black Mustang. "'Bout time!" she chirped with a grin. She hopped down off of the hood and greeted Jack with a kiss, which was returned eagerly by him.  
  
Stagey watched from a little distance, feeling pretty awkward. "Okay... well, I'd better get going. It's a little bit of a walk to home. See you around, Jack..." She prepared to leave.  
  
"Wait... hey, Stagey," Jack called after her. "I can give you a ride home. I got plenty of room in the back seat."  
  
"Not right now," Sarah hinted to him, indicating a mass of papier-mache in the back. "I had to toss my science project back there."  
  
"Oh," he said. "Sorry, Stagey..."  
  
She shrugged, hugging her backpack closer to her. "It's okay. I'm good. See you later then."  
  
"Kay." He smiled. "You comin' to the football game tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe..."  
  
"Maybe I'll see ya there?"  
  
She smiled a little. "Sure." She disappeared down the street.  
  
"So who's that, Jack?" Sarah purred, sliding into the passenger's seat.  
  
He started the ignition. "Oh, jus' the new kid..." He looked at Sarah. "What, you jealous?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"No..." she mused. "Not in the least."  
  
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An' there it be, kids!! PLEASE review!! Thanks so much! Don't forget to stay tuned for Chapter Three... comin' soon to a monitor near you! 


	3. Home Game

Okay. *clears throat*  
  
I. Am. So. Sorry.  
  
*Nods* Right. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not updating in... well, many moons. Problem is, I've been the victim of (A) severe writer's block, (B) college applications, and (C) general boredom with this story. But hey! You guys keep reviewin' it, telling me how much you love it, so I must be doing SOMETHING right!  
  
Also, a few of you (meaning my CC goils) are making the scene in this chappie, so keep your eyes peeled for that!  
  
So anyhow, now that I have found my muse (who is currently typing her toga off), I bring to you the third installment of "Fast Times At Duane Street High." Enjoy, children!  
  
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~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~  
  
Chapter THREE: Home Game  
  
For some high schools, football goes unnoticed-- a meaningless ritual of guys in helmets trying to smother one another over an odd-shaped ball. But for Duane Street High, football was practically the Sabbath. The varsity team were viewed like gods-- having been undefeated for the eighth year in a row-- and acted as such.  
  
"Let's kick some ass!" was the battle cry for the Duane Street Devils as they strutted proudly onto the field that night, much like a parade of peacocks that flaunted their jerseys like plumage.  
  
Oscar Delancey, however, stayed behind momentarily to go to the sidelines, where Sarah was leaning against the fence. A sly smirk crossed his face.  
  
"Ain't you gonna wish me luck?" he demanded with a grin.  
  
She smiled. "Shut up, Oscar!" she said in a hiss. "He's supposed to be here any second!"  
  
"So?" He shrugged with typical indifference. "Let that little wuss of a boyfriend come here and see you." He seized her around the waist teasingly, pressing his lips against hers.   
  
Sarah's face broke out into a satisfied grin. "Go get 'em, Oscar." As they pulled apart, she checked over her shoulder, searching for Jack, as if nothing happened at all.  
  
***************  
  
Stagey dodged in and out of the insane crowds of people, on her way to finding a seat in the bleachers. Why did she even bother to come tonight? It wasn't like she really knew anyone there. Then again, Jack DID ask if she was going to be there... But why would Jack's opinion matter to her? It shouldn't have. But it did.  
  
In the crowds, Stagey was bombarded by two eager girls with sparkling eyes. They both had arms loaded with one of everything from the concession stand. In the collision, a few nachos spilled onto the sidewalk.  
  
"Oh, sorry!" the shorter of the two exclaimed. She tucked a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear nervously. "Didn't see you there."  
  
Stagey shrugged. "Um, it's all right... Sorry about your nachos."  
  
The other girl laughed, sapphire-blue eyes twinkling. "It's all good! We were just on our way to deliver this..." She indicated the array of snacks.  
  
When Stagey was about to ask who was receiving all of these saturated fats, she saw Racetrack peer over the edge of the bleachers. He waved to Stagey, then turned to the other girls.  
  
"Mayo! Sapphy! You think you're takin' long enough?" he barked in mock exasperation. "My stomach's been growlin' for fifteen minutes already!"  
  
Much to Stagey's amusement, the two girls battled their way to Race, trying to be the one to get there first. She couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "Okay if I sit here?" she asked.  
  
"Only if you got some food for me," Race demanded. As Stagey reached into her purse to find something, he laughed, adding, "I'm jus' kiddin'! Don't worry about it! I got my goils to do that kinda stuff for me." He indicated the two eager girls on either side of him. "This is Mayo an' that's Sapphy. Goils, this here is Stagey, fresh outta D.C."  
  
"Heya!" Mayo greeted excitedly. "Uh, welcome to Duane Street!" She edged closer to Race.  
  
Sapphy snorted out a laugh. "Here; you can sit on this side," she offered, moving a jacket out of the way.  
  
"Thanks." Stagey grinned appreciatively, sliding in. She silently observed Mayo and Sapphy with amusement as they took turns flirting with Race: getting him some more nachos, laughing melodiosly at his jokes, and finding a motive to physically contact him in one way or another. It wasn't stupid, really; it was actually pretty interesting.  
  
Stagey elbowed Sapphy in the ribs a few minutes later. "Race sure has the two of you wrapped around his finger," she whispered with a grin.  
  
"Aw, it's okay," Sapphy insisted, grinning. "It's just fun to flirt, that's all! Besides, Mayo's pretty much my best friend. We don't REALLY fight over Race. Right, Mayo?"  
  
Mayo sat back down, passing out sodas for everyone. "Oh, sure!" she chirped in reply. "Who wouldn't want a piece of this scrappy li'l Italian?" She pinched Race on the cheek affectionately.  
  
Race turned beet red. It was clear he was enjoying all this attention. "Damn right!"  
  
***************  
  
Behind the bleachers, Spot Conlon reigned surpreme, presiding over the rebels of Duane Street... or at least any of them that had even the shred of school spirit to show up. He consistently wore his "screw authority and anyone else that disagrees with me" smirk.  
  
"So remind me why we're here again?" Michelle Beaufont, known as Raven to everyone else, leaned against a wall and lit up a cigarette evasively. She checked over her shoulder, making sure a cop wasn't patroling nearby.  
  
Spot fixed his intense, often scary gaze on Raven. "Why not? Ain't you havin' a good time?" He motioned to the game on the field. "Bunch of steroid boys scrambling around, makin' idiots out of themselves." He took a drag from his own cigarette. "Sounds like a good time to me." He paused. "So where the hell are all your drama freaks?"  
  
"We're not any more freakish than you are, Conlon!" Raven snapped back good-naturedly, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Ah, they're probably around somewhere..." She scanned under the bleachers, seeing a familiar face. "Jack!"  
  
Jack walked briskly to Raven and Spot's hangout. He was different enough to be accepted there, but he was too much of a follower to be welcome for very long.  
  
He smiled briefly upon seeing Raven. "What's goin' on, Rave?" He immediately looked around him, in search of someone. "You seen Sarah anywhere? She left her ring in my car this afternoon."   
  
Jack displayed the ring: a white gold band dazzled by a few tiny diamonds. "It's crazy... She never took it off since I gave it to her for Christmas!" He dismissed his insecurities with a shrug. "Maybe she just forgot it."  
  
"Maybe," Raven offered, shrugging as well. "Hey, I think she's over by the sidelines. You could check there."  
  
"Thanks," he said quickly, immediately heading toward the field's sidelines.  
  
***************  
  
In the twilight, Jack saw Sarah several yards away, leaning against a fence. He paused for a second, twirling the ring between his thumb and forefinger fondly. Sarah Jacobs was about the best thing that happened to him. Everything about her-- her smile, her touch, the way her hair fell in her face when she was studying-- was so special in his eyes.  
  
His meditations were interrupted as an unwelcome face entered the seemingly perfect picture: Oscar Delancey. Jack grumbled some curses under his breath. Ever since elementary school, Oscar had always been one-up on everything. He defeated Jack in fourth grade for class president, creamed him in junior high wrestling, and got a scholarship to NYU-- Jack's dream school.   
  
Jack heaved a somewhat satisfied sigh, though. At least Oscar couldn't have dominion over the one person Jack truly cared about. Besides, Sarah would never go for Oscar. Not in a million years.  
  
Jack's face clouded over with worry, however, when he watched Oscar talk with Sarah from his perch on the bench. Sarah never gave Oscar the time of day before. What was going on?  
  
He remained in the distance, no more noticeable than a fly on the wall, watching the scene play out. Jack's hands crunched up into fists with anxiety with every teasing smile and hair flip that Sarah gave Oscar. He wasn't a control freak with any of his girlfriends, but this situation scared him.  
  
Oscar leaned over, whispering indistinct words in Sarah's ear. She giggled melodiously. Then, to Jack's horror and torture, Oscar leaned further into Sarah, smashing his lips against hers. He SMASHED them against hers. It wasn't a kiss. Kisses were supposed to be tender, loving, gentle-- at least that was how Jack always kissed her.  
  
He couldn't take it anymore. With the two of them still in a liplock, Jack strode over to them boldly, still hidden in the darkness behind them.  
  
Sarah laughed loudly, pulling away. "Not so crazy, Oscar!" she hissed with a broad smile. "Jack's gonna see us!"  
  
Jack just stood there, tears creeping into his eyes. "Too late."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
...Perhaps I should have changed the title of this chapter to "Sarah's A Cheating Whore"? Hmm.  
  
Anyhow! PLEASE send me some reviews! I greatly appreciate it, guys!  
  
SOON TO COME: CHAPTER FOUR!!  
  
(And I swear on all things "Newsies" that the next chapter won't take HALF as long to put out as THIS one!) 


	4. Wins and Losses

*Chuckling nervously* Hey, kids... *tosses the next chappie on the reader's screen and runs away for fear of being killed* This one took me long enough, didn't it? Well, I suppose that Christmas AND college AND drama AND chorus AND work haven't helped much in the situation.   
  
That, and you guys (who are so graciously reviewing my stuff, thank you!) were giving me so many ideas that I don't know what to do with them! So anyway, I took a FEW pieces and glued them together and made this chapter! Ta da? *crickets chirp*  
  
Anyway, I found my muse... Who looks remarkably like Christian Bale in a toga... *pauses to melt at the sight of him in clingy Greek garb* And he's currently handcuffed to my bedpost! *beams, a la Fisher-Price* Oh, the possibilities! *sinister laughter*  
  
SO! Without further ado, I bring to you the next installment of all that is "Fast Times at Duane Street High."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~  
  
Chapter FOUR: Wins and Losses  
  
As the frantic crowd cheered on the Duane Street Devils, Eve Botarro remained silent. Her focused gaze followed but one player, jersey number 56: Mush Meyers. A slow smile crept upon her face as he ran toward the endzone, scoring the winning touchdown for Duane Street. The crowed upwelled in a spirited cheer. They'd won. They'd done what they'd set out to do. They'd kicked Irving High's ass.  
  
Eve flew down the bleachers to congratulate him. "Mush!" she called in a frantic, excited voice.  
  
Mush's eyes darted to the tall girl moving with statuesque grace toward him, curly hair bouncing like soft, sweet-smelling springs. He smiled internally. It must have been the weirdest thing for a football player to not be enamored with a cheerleader, but with a fellow athlete-- the captain of the girl's varsity soccer team to be exact.  
  
He took a break from celebrating and bear-hugging the other teammates and smiled at Eve as she ran into his arms.  
  
"You won!!" she exclaimed with a delighted squeak, squeezing him around the neck.  
  
Mush could do nothing but laugh with that same delight, lifting his girlfriend off the ground and spinning around with her. He tried not to look at his teammates as he rejoiced with Eve. They never did think Mush should have dated Eve in the first place.  
  
Screw 'em, Mush thought to himself as he kissed Eve's lips softly. "Wanna go celebrate?" he asked her, gazing down at her affectionately.   
  
"Why the hell not?" She grinned.  
  
***************  
  
As Stagey was busy engaging herself in the conversation among Race, Sapphy, and Mayo, she saw a familiar face walk briskly past. Jack! There he was. But what was he so hurried about?  
  
"'Scuse me, guys," she said to the three absent-mindedly, jogging behind Jack in some attempt to keep up. "Jack!" she called out with a smile in her voice.  
  
Jack's disheartened ears perked up to his name being called in the crowded street. There was some glimmer of hope inside of him that the voice belonged to Sarah. He just wanted her to fly into his arms and cry against him and tell him she was so sorry for what she'd done. Then he'd take her back and life would be good again.  
  
But his heart sank. It was just Stagey.  
  
She arrived behind him, breath heavy with running to catch up to him. "Where's the fire?" she inquired with a teasing smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were running away from me on purpose."  
  
He turned to face her. "Hey Stagey." He was just glad that it was too dark for her to see his tear-blotched face.  
  
Stagey's face fell at his nonchalant response. "Well, here I am... Didn't you want to meet me at the game?"  
  
"Oh-- oh yeah, that's right," he muttered as an afterthought.  
  
"You... you okay?" she asked him, tilting her head to get a better look at his face.  
  
His eyes hardened. "No," he replied coldly, turning on his heel.  
  
Stagey appeared puzzled. "What's the matter? Look, I didn't want to make you mad or anything..." She sounded incredulous, but mostly hurt.  
  
This made him turn around. "You didn't," Jack said briefly. "My night's just been pretty sucky... to say the least." He barked out a short, sarcastic laugh. Laughing at himself for being so stupid to trust Sarah Jacobs in the first place.  
  
"Apparently more than just sucky," she pointed out, then noticed a certain someone wasn't latched onto his arm. "Where's Sarah? I thought I saw her here."  
  
Jack's fists clenched as a frustrated growl erupted from his throat. It was enough for Stagey, who still remained uninformed of Jack's real problem, to back away from him.  
  
"She was cheating on me..." Jack muttered under his breath. "The little-- she's such a--" Despite his anger, he still couldn't bring himself to call Sarah anything other than her name.   
  
Stagey swallowed, feeling supremely awkward. "I'm sorry," was all she could say.  
  
"Wasn't your fault."  
  
"Well yeah, but it doesn't mean I don't feel bad that you were treated so badly." She frowned, reaching out to pat his arm. "Look, if she's such a bitch to do stuff like this behind your back, you don't deserve her."  
  
Jack forced a sad smile. "Well, I sure as hell know that NOW." He turned away to walk on, but slowly turned back to her. "Hey Stagey?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Thanks. For putting up with my self-pity and crap."  
  
She shrugged. "Guess it's what I'm here for."  
  
"You just going back home now?"  
  
"Probably, yeah."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She paused. "Catch you later then?"  
  
Jack smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Not too much later."  
  
The awkward silence that followed was abruptly ended by Blink, who ran like a madman through the crowd.  
  
"So THERE you are!!" He skidded to a halt in front of Stagey and Jack, panting excitedly.  
  
Stagey smirked at his enthusiasm. "What's going on, Blink?"  
  
Blink held up a finger as he resumed breathing normally again. "Just wanted to congratulate ya, Jack!" He patted his friend on the back. "Cast list just got posted. You're Romeo, buddy!"  
  
Jack smiled, shrugging modestly. "That's cool," he said nonchalantly.  
  
"Congrats, Jack..." Stagey managed a smile for him, but her heart sank. She must not have made Juliet. Or Blink didn't mention it, at any rate. "So, did you see if I made the list, Blink?"  
  
Blink paused reflectively. "Y'know... I don't remember. Why don'tcha go look at it and check for yourself? It's right on the door outside the backstage entrance." He pointed to a single piece of paper on a door nearby.  
  
Stagey trotted up to the list, automatically scanning the list. Her heart sank further as she checked by each character's name, none of them paired with her own. Well, at least she could see who DID get Juliet...   
  
JULIET CAPULET....... DANIELLE WILLIAMS  
  
"Oh my God..." Stagey had to trace a line from Juliet's name to her own about twenty times to realize that she indeed had the part. She smiled, turning to Blink, who was casted as the bawdy, swaggering Mercutio. "Didn't you know that I got Juliet?" she asked him with a grin.  
  
"Well yeah!" He shrugged, smirking. "But I thought you'd wanna enjoy it for yourself!"  
  
"Wow..." She gazed at the cast list, completely surprised.  
  
Jack placed a hand on Stagey's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "See? I told you, Stagey." He smiled a little.  
  
Then Stagey put the pieces together. It was thrilling enough that she got to play Juliet. But Jack was her Romeo. That was just as thrilling.  
  
Even if she couldn't admit it to herself yet.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
WHEE!! *smiles* Not like any of you DIDN'T see that one coming...  
  
Anyway! PLEASE send me some reviews! They motivate my slow-as-molasses writing skills! Then again, I found my muse, and he's not moving from my bed... *pause, blushes* Er... just so he'll be comfy! *nods* Yep. 


	5. A Bittersweet Invitation

Few A/N's:

Okay, first of all… Thank you to Raven, Sapphy, and everyone else who has actually poked me to update this story. You guys care, and y'know? It's beautiful.

And a special THANK YOU to Bitter for musing on me. You know I love ya, chica.

So without any further gilding the lily, I present to you:

* * *

FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH 

Chapter FIVE: A "Bittersweet" Invitation

By Monday, the excitement over Duane Street's victory over Irving had quelled itself. The jocks and popular kids had partied themselves unconscious. The drama kids had celebrated the cast list of _Romeo and Juliet_. The brains had immersed themselves in their textbooks all weekend. And the badasses, as always, were indifferent.

When you walk into Duane Street High School, like it or not, you're met by a bunch of drama freaks. The main entrance was also near the auditorium entrance: the foundation for this eccentric little group. Everyone was either being loud, singing _RENT _or _Wicked_ show tunes, or just reveling in their differentness.

And this group—the drama kids—was where Melody "Bitter" Conlon made her first move.

Bitter was one of those kids that was a definite floater. She was just crafty enough to wriggle her way into just about every social clique. She'd be studious with the future valedictorian candidates. She could play enough chords on her brother's guitar to be accepted among the musical talents. And she'd be damned if she couldn't roll a joint just as well as any of the potheads.

Her brother Spot was the reigning badass supreme of Duane Street, and as a result she inherited a lot of his punkish, "screw you" attitudes. Her cropped coif was just as blue as her brother's eyes; her own eyes liked to be green on occasion. The squeaking of her black Converse All-Stars was a trademark indicator of her impending presence.

Today she wore her favorite blue low-riders with about fifteen million holes in them and a semi-baggy Incubus t-shirt—the latter a clear theft from Spot's closet. She'd normally wear her cleavage-baring corsets and fishnets, but since Principal Seitz yelled at her last week, she had to abandon such things.

"Hey," she greeted the drama kids with a subtle nod, clutching a massive stack of fliers as blue as her spiky 'do.

Blink was the first person to notice. "Uh, what's up, Bitter?"

With a very nonchalantly extended arm, Bitter displayed a sizable section of the stack of fliers. "Here. Check it out; I'm throwing a party on Friday." She nodded to the surrounding cluster of drama kids. "Pass 'em out?"

She then gave Blink a tight-lipped smile and walked away, remembering to appease the drama folks by singing a little bit of _Phantom of the Opera_:

"Masquerade, paper faces on parade… Masquerade… Hide your face so the world will never find you… doo doo doo…"

---

If you were brave enough to be unmoved by the drama kids, you may be bogged down by the brains. The library wasn't too far away, and naturally every straight-A student congregated near it to do that last-minute check to make sure their bibliographies were in MLA format.

David Jacobs, the "coolest" of the group, leaned against a pillar. He was talking to fellow bookworm Ivan Konikoff, whom everyone called "Dutchy," which was odd, since Dutchy was actually Ukranian.

The guys' conversation was abruptly ended by Bitter's ever-imposing presence. The brainiacs felt okay with letting her in the group, even if she _did_ only make a 3.8 GPA last year.

"Hey Bitter," David greeted, squinting at the blue stack of papers. "Is that your Emerson report for English class?"

This only threw Bitter off for a moment. _Shit_. That was due today, wasn't it? "Uh, no." She thumbed through and counted out about half the amount of fliers she'd distributed among the drama kids. "I'm, uh, holding a study group for calculus on Friday night. My address is right on these fliers." Smirking, she pressed them into David's hand. "Give 'em out. It'll be fun."

---

For some bizarre reason, the English hall was the notorious center for the popular kids. Every member of the football team was there, still gloating and still hung over from the victory party that they would have held, even if they'd lost the game. Not like they'd ever lose, though.

Oscar Delancey was obviously there, his arm wrapped possessively around Sarah as he started cracking jokes to Mush and Skittery about how many keg stands he did.

"Swear to God, I was passed out in Skitts' bathtub until Sunday night!" he crowed, somehow proud of his little brush with alcohol poisoning.

The roar among the elitist crowd only slightly dulled with the subtle fanfare of squeaking sneakers, signaling Bitter's entrance.

"Like you never pass out for two days," she teased. Badmouthing someone was always the culturally proper way for anyone to enter the A-crowd.

Mush eyed the stack of fliers. "You tryin' to spread vegetarian propaganda again, Bitter?"

"Cute, Meyers. No, actually…" She handed out the biggest stack to him. "I'm throwing a party Friday night." When no one responded, she added the kicker: "Free beer."

"Count me in!" Skittery laughed, taking a flier eagerly, eyeing it.

Bitter smirked. Mission accomplished for the A-crowd. "Kick-ass. Tell your friends."

---

She continued her quest along the hallways, bypassing the library and heading into the commons, which was essentially an outside courtyard just past the cafeteria. It was here where the potheads, class clowns, and rebels all laid claim to different territories around the massive oak tree.

After basically handing a stack to the nearest pothead, a guy that oddly went by the nickname Pie Eater after he'd gotten high and indulged himself in about five whole apple pies, she approached the class clowns, the cut-ups. At the center of these kids was Racetrack, clouded with a few "fans," among them Sapphy, Mayo, Fantasy, and Puck.

"Bittah!" Race's Boston accent always made everything he said that much funnier. "What brings you to the neighborhood?"

Bitter fended her way past a tight wall of Sapphy and Puck to approach him. "Wanna come to a party?"

Sapphy blinked, looking at Bitter as though to determine if she was worthy enough of coming near Race. "Party?" Her eyes, almost as blue as Bitter's hair, sparkled inquisitively.

"Just a get-together," she said with a smirk and a sort of indifferent shrug. "Thought we could watch the American Pie trilogy or something."

Race frowned, taking the few fliers that Bitter offered to him. "Okay," he said. "Friday night?" He nodded reflectively. "Mmkay. We'll be there."

---

"What do _you_ want?" Spot's eyes became downgrading little slits at the appearance of his little sister to his group. He casually unslipped his arm around Raven, who had taken a semi-hiatus from her usual drama group to hang around with Spot and the rest of the rebels.

Bitter feigned the same apathy that seemed to be the consensus among the group. "Nothin'. Just wanted to remind you that Mom and Dad are going out of town Thursday."

Her brother shrugged a bit. "Yeah, okay. Thanks. Now scurry along…"

She thrust the last chunk of the flier stack to him proudly. "So I'm having a party."

Raven took one of the fliers and held it in front of her face at a distance, as though it were tacky with wet paint. "Aww," she said in a mocking voice, "how cute. Your sister's throwing a party!"

"Gimme that!" Spot snatched it from her. He frowned at it. "Kinda boring, wouldn't you say? All we got here's an address and a date."

"Well, I had to work the crowds. Had to put enough spin on it so everyone'll come." She nodded brightly, smirking triumphantly at her brother. "Ain'tcha proud of me?"

Spot still couldn't get over the fact that his sister had taken advantage of their parents' business trip before he did. "You'd better not screw things up," he said, "or I'll be the first to tell Mom and Dad."

"…And I'll be the first to immediately tell them of the lovely little 'sleepovers' you keep having with Raven." She gave him a triumphantly pointed look.

Raven was slackjawed, taking her cigarette from her lips and just staring at Spot and Bitter simultaneously. "What the hell…?"

"Okay," Spot rushed out in frustration. "My lips are sealed."

* * *

All righty. Until next time, guys! Send those reviews in and I just might update sooner than you think! 


	6. This Way To The Party

Don't have many notes to present here, but I'd like to thank Bitter (however reluctantly, hee hee), for prodding me to get this chapter out in a timely manner. Just don't poke so hard, girl! rubs arm that's starting to bruise Criminy.

So anyway, without further ado, here it comes:

* * *

FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH 

Chapter SIX: This Way to the Party

Stagey walked across the parking lot to Jack's car, which had become a familiar mode of transportation for her. She'd always felt weird about just _assuming_ that she was getting a ride with him, but he constantly insisted that it was just fine.

This time, as she leaned against the hood of his car, smiling at his approaching figure, he had a distinctly blue sheet of paper in his free hand, his other hand snagging his car keys from his pocket.

"What's that?" she inquired, tilting her head to get a better look at the flier.

Instead of letting Stagey skew her perception to see it, Jack merely handed it to her. "I got it from Blink… apparently there's some rockin' party going on tonight."

This statement at least piqued Stagey's interest. "Party?"

He nodded, smiling fondly at her. Ever since the whole Sarah scandal had dropped before him, and after the cast list posting for _Romeo and Juliet_, Jack felt a bit drawn to this Stagey kid. It was like they needed each other. Though, despite encouragement from Blink to get "on the rebound," he didn't seek any more with Stagey than he would with any other friend.

"So," he said, giving her a slightly indifferent shrug, "if you want a ride…"

Stagey couldn't help but to give him an inquisitive grin. "Is this a date?"

"Date! Uh, no… nothin' like that."

"Right—that was dumb of me to think…" She barked out a laugh. "So, um… how's about nine-thirty?"

"Deal."

-

Spot, for the first and probably only time in his life, was worried. He paced with perfect timing like an aggravated. Raven and Bitter, perched on the couch like inquisitive songbirds, watched him intently, both wearing amused smirks.

"This is bad, Bitter," he tried to reason with his sister. "I can't trust you with a party!"

"And why not?" For some reason, Spot's little gal-pal Raven was siding with Bitter. Why was she siding with Bitter? Right: the free booze.

"You stay out of this!" Spot jutted a finger at Raven, moving it back to his sister Bitter. "If Mom and Dad find out about this, they're going to fry you _and_ me…"

"Pffsh," Bitter tossed her head dismissively. "Like that ever concerned you before when it was _you_ throwing the party." Her eyes flashed playfully, and it was as though her already electric-blue hair lit up with mischief.

"Just trust me."

-

The first people to make it to the party _would_ have been the braniacs—after all, they were totally the punctual ones—but Bitter knew that if the jocks saw the nerds at the party, they'd totally make a 180 and just bring the keg to Skittery's or something. Bitter was no fool; she had this planned. She told the nerds to come to the party an hour after she knew everyone else would have been there: at 10:30.

It was 9:30 now, and right on time, a punctual _ding-dong_ echoed through the Conlon household. Bitter casually sauntered to the front door and threw it open with an appropriate nonchalance.

"'Sup, guys!" Sapphy's bright blue gaze flashed excitedly on the other side of the doorframe, trying to outdo the azure hue of Bitter's coiffure.

Race was jogging up the driveway right behind her. "Bitter!" he greeted almost wearily. "How you livin'?"

Bitter smirked. "Not bad, not bad."

Sapphy nodded to Race and turned to Bitter with an excited clenching of her teeth. "I'm here with him tonight." The reason for Sapphy's bright-eyed glow was now apparent. "_Alone_."

Bitter gave a cordial smile. Not like she'd totally _care_, but hey—she had to keep her guests happy. "Awesome," she cooed with appropriate excitement. "C'mon in, guys… you're the first ones here."

They weren't the first for long. The next few moments played out like a scene from one of those passé teen movies from 1999. It initiated with a screech of tires to a grinding halt as a freshly polished Hummer parked right behind Race's Mazda Miata.

In a fashion that was reminiscent of clowns emerging from a tiny car, the entire football team seemed to leak out of the parked Hummer. Skittery leapt from the drivers' side with an excited whoop, followed quickly by Mush and Eve, joined at the hip and already riled up enough to pass on the excitement to the party. Oscar brought up the rear, protectively clutching Sarah's waist.

Bitter chose to say nothing. She just watched the events unfold as the back of the Hummer opened and another five people leapt out.

"It's like a partymobile," Race murmured in awe.

As the crowd cleared out of the rear of the Hummer, the piece de resistance was left over: a great big, cylindrical, stainless steel, icy-cold keg of Budweiser.

The excitement of the keg revealing was enough to completely overshadow the meek and mild entrance of the resident bookworms, headed by David Jacobs. He nodded knowingly to his sister, trying to be a part of her seemingly cooler clique.

Dutchy's eyes widened. "Uh, David?" he squeaked as he caught sight of the keg. "Are you _sure_ this is the right party?"

"Outta my way, Four Eyes!" Skittery elbowed his way through the cluster of the bookish kids. "MAKE WAY FOR THE KEG!"

Bitter snorted out a laugh. This was going to be one hell of a night.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED NEXT CHAPTER! 

Review if you want a timely writing of the next chapter! You know you want to. I mean, all the cool kids are doing it.


	7. Cliques Collide

Oh my word, I'm so horrid. Despite loving reviews, I just didn't even start to work on the next chapter until Bitter gave me some lovely inspiration. (blows kisses to her)

ANYWAY. This is gonna be a long chappie, so have fun!

-

FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH

Chapter SEVEN: Cliques Collide

It was like a scene from some kind of old monster movie, or perhaps even reminiscent of the scene in _Beauty and the Beast_ when Gaston and his cronies bash in the Beast's castle with a giant battering ram. Whatever it looked like, Skittery brought up the lead as a massive keg rammed its way into the door.

The recently arrived partying kids, usually seen with the football teams, crowed with delight at the sight of the stainless steel drum of alcoholic goodness. The party had officially begun.

"They sure as hell better not spill any on the tapestry rug," Spot muttered in a last attempt at responsibility before he joined the throng of flocking partiers, red plastic cup in hand.

-

Right at the corner, a familiar Mustang peeled into the sea of cars clogging up the court where Bitter's world-famous house party was well into swing.

"Guess the party started without us," Jack muttered with a chuckle, smiling over at Stagey, who looked a little nervous in the passenger seat. "What's the matter?"

Her head whipped around to look at him, forcing a smile. "Huh? Oh, I'm okay…" She grinned a little awkwardly. "I'm just used to D.C. parties is all."

"Is that all you're worried about?" Jack smirked at her. "Don't you worry, Stagey. You'll get plenty of party at a Duane Street party, believe you me."

He navigated the 'Stang between Mush's Lexus and an '88 Volvo, probably belonging to someone who actually bought his own car, rushing to the other side to free the door on Stagey's side.

This gentlemanly gesture made her smirk a little. "Wow, I'm not used to that."

"Well, uh… that door only opens on the outside…"

Her face fell a bit. "Right; of course."

A girl with dark, Italian features was leaning on the porch, already on her fifth straight cup of beer. "Jaa-ack…" she slurred with a grin. "You made it!"

"That's Ray Tortulo," Jack whispered the brief introduction to Stagey, moving towards the house. "Yep," he called in a louder voice, "here I am!"

With a slight amount of balancing on her stiletto heels, Ray plodded to Jack with the intent to embrace him, instead stumbling into him. For some reason this was wildly funny.

"Whee!" she shrieked in a high-pitched voice. "C'mon in, c'mon in!" she said uneasily, desperate to be a good co-hostess, making big arm motions in the direction of the house.

Stagey just laughed to herself, readjusting her silk lacy tank as she tried to keep up before the door was closed.

Despite Jack's reasonable popularity, his entrance was quietly unnoticed by everyone. Instinctively, he tugged Stagey's elbow closer to him—not in a possessive sense, but rather a protective sense. She still didn't know just how drunk people got at Bitter's parties.

In the smaller living room, huddled like fearful puppies, were the smart kids. They looked contemplative, wondering whether or not to bail out. David Jacobs, the unofficial leader of the group, had cool and collected face, which meant these kids were going _nowhere_.

Jack gave them a brief nod—after all, the brains were people too—and progressed down the hall to the bigger main room, the den, where a pulsating strobe light and thumping bass of Linkin Park's "Numb/Encore" made the floor feel ravaged by a slight earthquake.

"Honestly, is Linkin Park ever going to come up with _anything_ new?" he said in a slightly loud whisper in Stagey's ear, desperate to get her to loosen up.

"STAGEY!"

In a lightning-fast move, Stagey was tackled by a bouncy redhead with a camisole blue enough to match the color of her eyes.

"Sapphy!" Stagey grinned, relieved that some recognizable faces were present at this party. "Are you here with Mayo and Race?"

With a lilting laugh, making a beer or two evident in her system, Sapphy laughed. "No! Just Race! He's my _date_ tonight." Her eyes lit up, tugging Stagey into the midst of the dance floor. "Dance with me!"

Stagey grinned and followed Sapphy in the cluster of grinding teenagers, giving Jack a "go ahead, I'll be fine" look as she was sucked in.

"Nice," Jack muttered to himself with a fascinated smile, walking into the kitchen with a little laugh. "Blink!" he called with a nod to the eye patch-wearing kid near the kitchen counter. "You ever gonna take that damn thing off?"

"And lose my trademark? Hell no!" Blink laughed, handing Jack one of the red party cups everyone had. "Here. Saved ya some."

Jack took it nonchalantly, tipping it up just a bit. "Thanks man." His eyes scanned the party. "Bitter outdid herself again, I see."

"I heard my name!" An electric-blue coiffure bounced amidst all the rest, moving towards Jack and Blink. "Hey there, Jack! When did you show up?"

"Coupla' minutes ago." He took another sip of beer.

Bitter beamed, scanning her party with a proud smirk when all of a sudden her face fell. "Oh, _damn_ it," she groaned. "Who invited Sarah the Cheating Whore?"

Jack flinched, afraid to look at the girl he _knew_ Bitter must have been talking about. His eyes refused to listen to his brain, however, and thusly landed on a hair-tossing Sarah Jacobs, undulating her hips against Oscar Delancey in the dining room in an attempt at a lap dance.

"Shit," he hissed angrily, chugging the rest of his beer.

Blink's visible eye widened. "Whoa, whoa, whoa there buddy!" He patted Jack on the shoulder. "How's about I get you another?"

He nodded a little, fixing his fitted Ramones t-shirt uneasily. "Yeah, all right. But just one more. I'm driving tonight."

"Always the man with a brain," Bitter said proudly. "Like that one time last year when—"

She was cut off by an infuriated Spot barging into the kitchen. "Bitter! Skittery just spewed half a keg of Budweiser all over the laundry room floor! Go get some paper towels!"

She closed her eyes in exasperation. "Jesus. I'll see you guys later. Enjoy my party!" Her blue-coiffed head moved through the sea of people.

"Later, Bitter!" Blink called energetically.

Jack remained quiet, his eyes fixed on his tipsy ex-girlfriend giving his mortal enemy a lap dance. _Shit_. His right hand clenched into an angry fist as he punched the wall nearby. He had to hit _something_. And, try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to hit Sarah for this.

Blink took notice of this distress, bringing Jack back around to face him. "C'mon, man. This is a party. Let's go find someplace fun, huh?"

With an angry mutter, Jack followed Blink down into the basement, where a group of drama kids were blaring "La Vie Boheme" from the _Rent_ soundtrack:

"…To being an 'us' for once, instead of a 'them'…"

Jack couldn't help but smirk. He felt at home now as he crowed in a loud voice: "LA VIE BOHEMMME!"

Everyone cheered and applauded at this entrance. Jack's chest swelled with pride as he collapsed next to Bumlets on the couch.

"Where you been?" Bumlets said with a laugh. "We all thought you were gonna be up there with the A-crowd."

"My ex is bein' a whore," he muttered, rubbing his temples, his head feeling a little unstable after chugging an entire cup of beer at once.

Blink shrugged. "Man, that's what I've been tryin' to tell you all along. I never did like her. But that Stagey chick on the other hand… I mean, _I'd_ bang 'er."

Jack's eyes shot open, assuming a protective air. "Hey, look! No one's gonna be bangin' Stagey."

"…If Jack don't get any, no one gets any." Bumlets snorted out a laugh.

"Where _is_ Stagey, anyhow?"

He shrugged. "Last I saw her, she was off with Sapphy."

Bumlets smirked. "Some date _you_ are."

"I ain't her date!" Jack muttered defensively, folding his arms tightly against his chest, fiddling with his LiveStrong bracelet awkwardly.

A pair of sky blue, strappy sandals clicked down the basement stairs urgently behind them. Sapphy, the wearer of the stylish shoes, had frantic eyes. "Jack! Come quick! It's Stagey!"

This caused Jack to spring up. "Stagey! What the hell did you to do to her, Sapphy? Is she hurt or somethin'?"

Sapphy flinched. "Er, not exactly… but, uh…"

"Where is she!"

She closed her eyes, worried Jack was going to maul her. "I let her have a few beers and now she's totally giving everyone a table dance in the dining room… You gotta help me get her down before she passes out or something!"

Before all the straight guys in the room could spring up at the mention of a table dance in the dining room, Jack leapt over the sofa, running with Sapphy up the stairs and going into the dining room.

The stereo was ironically thudding "Tipsy" as a more-than-just-tipsy Stagey was executing every move in the book on the dining room table. Congregated around her were Skittery, Mush, Oscar, and everyone else associated with the football team. In a corner, Sarah was sulking, clearly peeved that this new kid was stealing her thunder.

"Your new little girlfriend is being a total slut," she muttered as Jack walked past her.

This caused Jack to turn around with flashing eyes in Sarah's direction. "She's being a slut, Sarah? _She's_ being the slut!"

"Just let it go, Jack," Sapphy coaxed him, leading him away and up to the table. "Stagey, hon? Time to come down…"

Blissfully oblivious, Stagey kept undulating to the music, paying no heed to Sapphy's coaxing. All she could hear in her swimming head was the blasting beat and the whistles and catcalls from the football players and their friends.

"Stagey!" Jack called to her. "Stagey, c'mon! Get offa there before you hurt yourself!"

Stagey coolly turned her head to Jack and Sapphy, a drunken bliss on her face. "I'm not gonna get hurt!" she said, laughing wildly as she proceeded to dry hump the table surface. Once she got up, the gravity of the amount of beer she'd consumed in the last twenty minutes hit her. "Whoa. I don't feel so good…"

It all happened in slow motion as Stagey staggered backward, snapping one of her heels to send her into a backwards tumble. Jack helplessly held open his arms to catch a freshly passed-out Stagey.

"What're you going to do?" Sapphy asked the reluctant Jack.

He looked a little bewildered, looking down at Stagey's limp form. "Uh, I'd better take 'er outside before she gets sick…"

Sarah snarled at him. "What a lightweight," she muttered, sipping her new refill of beer. "She's probably faking it anyway."

Jack's eyes flashed angrily, but before he could retort, a drunken Ray's voice echoed in the doorway:

"YOU TRYIN' TO START SOMETHING, WHORE JACOBS?"

Jack turned his back, carrying Stagey away as the beginnings of a catfight initiated themselves behind him. He looked down at Stagey's limp form resting in his arms, totally bewildered.

"What the hell do I do now?"

-

TA DA! (big grin) Now then. Want to know what happens after Stagey's classic _10 Things I Hate About You_-inspired table dance? Well, send some reviews my way!

After all, all the cool kids are doing it. You wanna be cool, don't you?


End file.
